


A Plan for Power

by Vhenana



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, First Meetings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24606331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhenana/pseuds/Vhenana
Summary: Kayn wishes for power. He knows that he needs to kill for the power he wants.He's heard of a Demacian that leads the rebellion. A Demacian that can steal powers. He travels to the Freljord in search of that power, but when he breaks into his house to take it,He sees something that completely throws him.
Relationships: Sylas (League of Legends)/Shieda Kayn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	A Plan for Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImagineBarduil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBarduil/gifts).



The wind whipped around Kayn harshly, but he was mostly used to it by now. In the first hour of trying to walk in the thick, powdery snow, he barely spent any time on his feet. Wearing such thick boots helped with his toes not snapping off from the bone-chilling cold, but he wasn’t used to the weight. He always ran around with light shoes, or none at all. He had only put them on when the wind started to pick up, which was at the border of Demacian territory, and Rhaast hadn’t left him alone about his disorientation. The Darkin, who was mostly inhabiting the scythe against his back, laughed each time Kayn slipped or misstepped. 

“You’re like a newborn lamb!” Rhaast laughed again as his host slipped and pushed himself back to his feet. “It’s a wonder how you haven’t frozen to death yet!” 

“Would you prefer to be the one walking in this… frozen shit?” He grumbled back, pulling his thick, makeshift cloak over his bare chest. “Or I could just leave you in here to freeze into an ice block.” 

“If you left me behind, who would remind you that you’re an idiot?” The Darkin let out another grumbly laugh and fell silent, waiting for Kayn to slip again. The assassin just sighed and found his footing again, kicking snow as he trudged forward. Snow was an enjoyable thing when it was in small quantities; enough for snowballs and snowmen, but not as far as the eye can see, and almost up to his knees. 

Kayn brought his hand out of his cloak for a moment to look at the smudged ink on his hand. Frostheld… the last sighting of the power he wanted. That  _ they  _ wanted. Over the crest of the hill that he struggled to climb, and almost froze his fingers from stumbling into the snow, Kayn reached the top of it and looked over at the town. It was just as described. A small cluster of almost run-down buildings, and tents swaying in the wind. Demacians of different creeds and ages sat around multiple smaller fires, eating and laughing. 

But the man that Kayn wanted wasn’t there. 

The young man’s heterochromic eyes looked over the gathered Demacian rebels, and then flicked to the larger building that stood slightly away from the rest; and the one small light in an upper window. 

“That’s him, right?” Kayn asked, not knowing if Rhaast would respond. The Darkin’s eye on his scythe opened, alongside a disembodied sigh. 

“Why not go look?” 

“There could be more than one person in there. Or it might not be him at all.” Rhaast sighed again and sent a shockwave of needling pain through Kayn’s arm, grinning to himself when the assassin swore. 

“What makes you think that we can’t take them?” He snapped. “Has the cold gotten to your head?!” 

“Alright, alright!” Kayn brushed his arm off and pulled his hood back up after it had fallen. “Shut up. Someone might hear you.” After giving him another sigh, Rhaast’s eye closed, and kayn tapped the toe of his boot in the snow. It wouldn’t be too hard to stay hidden… Kayn gripped his scythe and twirled it in his hand as he brought it to his front. “Let’s do this.” He jumped forward and slid down the snowy embankment on the side of his knee, using the blade edge of the scythe to smooth the snow over after he passed it. It wasn’t a perfect cover-up, but not many people would give it a second glance. When he hit the flatter part of the land, Kayn found his footing and started to run, mostly out of sight, eyes focused on his target. 

When he stood next to it, the building was definitely taller than he thought, but Kayn just took a few steps to the right, scanning the outer wall. Even if it was tall, he could scale it. Swinging his scythe onto his back again, Kayn reached up and gripped the top of the ground floor window, testing the strength of the frame and lifting himself up and standing on the sil. He had to jump for the next handhold, a brick that stuck out was next, and Kayn jumped to catch it. He had a grin on his face as he climbed, and gripped the edge of the window that he saw the faint light from. When his feet were on a solid perch, he put his hands flat on the wood and looked into the room. 

And Kayn’s face went red. 

That was definitely the man he wanted. Sylas of Dregbourne. The leader of the Mage Revolutionaries. 

And Sylas, laid out on his neat bed, was gasping and moaning softly as he carefully and slowly masturbated. 

Kayn was frozen in a mix of shock and delight at what he was seeing. Sylas had his eyes closed, and his long hair stuck to his face. For a moment, the assassin wondered how he wasn’t hurting himself with the thick shackles that covered his forearms, but his eyes were still fixed on Sylas’ shaft. Kayn had never questioned his sexuality; he had just assumed that he never needed to think about it. 

But now, he had scaled the side of a building to get to a man he didn’t know, and couldn’t stop staring at his shaft. Even after the wind whipped around him and numbed his skin, his heart pounded in his chest, enough to make the tips of his fingers feel numb. Kayn didn’t know how long he had stood, staring at this man, but he almost lost his grip and balance when Rhaast shouted:

“Stop staring and do something!” Sylas flinched at the same time laying his head on its side, seemingly unfazed by the man at his window. 

“I’ll just climb-” Kayn crouched, ready to jump down, stopping when Sylas held his free hand up. He froze again, eyes still fixed on the mage. Knowing that he was being watched… His shackled hand started to move faster against himself. His expression didn’t change; his deep, blue eyes that were almost dripping with desire still watched Kayn, and his other hand dropped to the bed, knowing that his audience was now captive. The excitement started to ball up in Sylas’ chest, and his hand stroked with a reignited passion. With his movements being stronger and more passionate, precum dripped onto the side of his hand, moving into the grooves of his skin and knuckles and giving him the lubrication to stroke himself faster. Aside from Sylas’ breathing becoming heavier, the only audible thing in the room was the wet sound of his masturbating for a few moments before he swore in High Demacian, laid his head back again and bucked his hips as he came; cum hitting his abdomen. 

It was then that Sylas sat up, looking down as his softening member for a few moments and resting his arms on his thighs before looking at Kayn again, who was still staring and blushing. 

“Are you one of the new members of the rebellion?” He got up and strode over to the window, the chains from his shackles clinking together as they dragged across the floor. “I apologise for what you saw, but why did you climb the side of the building?” Kayn was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the mage’s face, but they kept flicking down to his manhood, and it didn’t go unnoticed. “If you actually stayed when I asked, you enjoyed what you saw, didn’t you?” The assassin looked away and nodded. “Then why don’t you come in?” Sylas lifted his hands and lifted the man by his underarms, pulling him in through the window and setting him down on his feet. “Can you speak?” 

“Yeah, I can.” Kayn finally said, pulling the hood of his cloak down. “You don’t have to, you know, apologise for that. I’m the one who climbed up.” 

“And I asked you to stay.” Sylas pulled the curtains closed and turned, smiling again when heterochromatic eyes flicked to his shaft. “May I be blunt with you, young man?” 

“You need to be; his head is full of air.” Rhaast spoke up again, and Kayn twirled his scythe off of his back to glare at the Darkin’s eye. 

“Your friend?” Kayn sighed and twirled it again so the head of the scythe was against the floor. 

“We have our differences. Ignore him. What did you want to ask me?” Again, he found himself speechless as Sylas lifted his hand and cupped his chin, stroking his calloused thumb over Kayn’s bottom lip. He stood just under a head taller, and showed being an adult much more than the assassin did, due to him being in his early thirties. 

“It seems such a strange thing to ask a complete stranger... But would you like to keep me company?” He knew that the question was coming, but Kayn was still surprised by it. “If you don’t want to, I’ll show you where the door is to save you the trouble of climbing back down the side of the house.” 

“You want to fuck me?” He asked, laughing in tandem with Sylas’ chuckle, the mage’s thumb still resting on his lower lip. 

“If you want to put it so bluntly, I do.” It didn’t seem like a rejection, so he stepped closer, moving the hand that was on Kayn’s chin to where his cloak was tied. “And from what I can tell… you’re enjoying the idea.” Sylas’ thigh rubbed against the assassin’s erection, and the sharp inhale once more reignited the fire in his chest. “What’s your name?” 

“K-Kayn…” As he said that, he let go of Rhaast, ignoring the otherworldly cursing as he dropped to the floor. 

“And my name is Sylas.” The cloak dropped from around Kayn’s shoulders, and Sylas closed the gap between their faces, pressing his lips against the assassin’s. One of Kayn’s hands moved, shooting up to hook his fingers into the stone collar around the mage’s neck as he melted into it. Most of Rhaast’s energy vanished from his body for the time being, as the Darkin knew when to let humans ‘sate’ themselves. Again, as Sylas’ hands explored his chest, the assassin wondered how he didn’t hurt himself with those chains. Just as Kayn tried to tilt his head and press his tongue against the other man’s lips, a strong hand gripped his backside and made him inhale sharply. 

“Fuck, man…” Kayn groaned, using his other hand to hook a thumb into his waistband. “You’re fucking hot, and I need to-” 

“Please, wait a moment.” Sylas lifted the assassin’s hands into his own, holding them between the two of them and gently stroking the back of them with his thumbs. “You enjoyed watching, didn’t you?” Even though his cheeks reddened again, Kayn nodded. “I enjoy having an audience…” With one practiced circle of his hand, Sylas wrapped the chain attached to his shackle around his wrists. “Come; kneel down.” Even though the thick chain was only wrapped around his wrists once, there was still a small twinge of panic in the back of Kayn’s mind about being captured. Noxus was not the nicest place to grow up in, and he had been in chains before. 

“You just want me to watch again?” He asked, fixing his eyes on Sylas’ ass as he walked the few steps back towards his bed. 

“Yes, I would.” The mage turned and sat down, the thrill of doing this with a complete stranger having made him fully erect again. A gentle tug on Kayn’s bicep made him kneel, shifting and groaning slightly so as to make his own shaft not hurt as it strained against his pants. Sylas spent a few moments staring at the outline of the younger man’s head, but shook it off and lifted Kayn’s chin to give him a warm smile. “No touching, okay?” 

“No problem.” The hand that was loosely attached to Kayn’s wrists stayed by Sylas’ side, and his other lifted, moving to his shaft and gripping it. Heterochromic eyes shifted and Kayn fixed his gaze on it as the mage started to stroke himself slowly, enjoying the flutter of excitement in his chest. He closed his eyes and let his hand move through instinct, knowing that he had a captive audience. It only took around half a minute for precum to start leaking out of his tip again, lubricating his strokes and filling the room with the wet sound again. Sylas opened his eyes again, to make sure that Kayn hadn’t looked away, and groaned softly at the sight of him moving slightly closer and shifting his knee, accidentally bumping the mage’s foot. 

“By the light, I love your eyes…” Sylas mumbled, tightening his grip slightly. “Keep them on me.” 

“You’re fucking hot.” Kayn replied, flicking his eyes up to Sylas’ face, and then fixing them back on his member. “You’re making me jealous that I can’t grow a beard.” 

“You need to grow some muscles first.” Rhaast grumbled, and Kayn turned to glare at him for a second. Sylas chuckled when his head turned back, and his eyes fixed back onto the shaft that was a couple of inches away from his face. 

“Your friend doesn’t seem very friendly.” The mage shook his head and redoubled his efforts with his hand, groaning again and leaning his head back. It felt like his nerves were on fire, but it was one of the best feelings in the world. After a moment, he flinched in surprise at the feeling of something wet against his length, and looked back down, meeting Kayn’s eyes as he had leaned forward again to taste him. “Ah, you can’t resist, can you?” Sylas smiled and stroked his cheek. “Your eyes are incredible but I can’t stop you from using your mouth, can I?” 

“Hey, you can’t blame me. You’re hot.” Kayn’s hands stayed in his lap, and Sylas let his length go, moving the hand to gently stroke the assassin’s hair as he teased his length with his tongue, the precum that was on the skin adding a salty flavour. The hand in his hair tugged gently, encouraging him to take the length into his mouth. 

“Please, keep your eyes on me.” Sylas mumbled, his breath getting heavy as the younger man took his head into his mouth. Kayn looked up, the expression looking more innocent than anything, and sank his head down slowly, tongue pressing against his length the whole way. Groaning softly, Sylas gently pulled him back up, and let him sink down again. After that, he didn’t need to keep his hand there as Kayn, who would debate that he wasn’t practiced, bobbed his head with enthusiasm, groaning against Sylas’ member. After so much stimulation, it didn’t take long for him to cum again, groaning and bucking his hips into Kayn’s mouth. The younger man didn’t expect it and pulled away, the last few ropes of cum hitting his lips and chin. 

“Fucking hell! Give me some warning!” The angry look didn’t faze the mage, who felt like he was floating in bliss. 

“Come here.” Sylas once again cupped Kayn’s chin, tilting his head up and feeling a strange sense of pride in his chest seeing his cum painting the assassin’s chin. “Would you like to lay down for me?” 

“You mean…” The smirk on Sylas’s face told him everything, and Kayn accepted the hand up. When he was on his feet, the mage’s hands moved to his waist, gently turning them both around with his lips against the younger man’s neck. Kayn melted into it, so he was surprised to be turned around and pushed onto the bed face-first. “You fucking-” 

“I know that didn’t hurt.” Came the soft, amused voice from behind him, shortly followed by the weight shifting as Sylas knelt down on the bed, sitting on the backs on Kayns’ thighs. He chuckled again and stroked his hands over the assassin’s back, humming a low note. “You definitely have muscles, here.” Calloused hands continued to massage, making circles that slowly moved lower. Kayn groaned and gripped the sheets underneath him, lifting his hips to make himself more comfortable. Sylas smirked and reached above him to grab a pillow, sliding it under Kayn’s stomach. “There you go. Is that better?” 

“Much.” He settled again with a content sigh, ready to relax into the massage again, and swore in surprise when Sylas hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down. “Hey! Give me some warning!” 

“Too late now.” The mage chuckled, placing his hands on Kayn’s hips and rubbed circles into his rear with both thumbs. “Relax. Loosen yourself up. I’ll be back in a moment.” He got up and left the room, leaving Kayn with his pants down and exposed. Not that he minded. Lifting his hips again, the assassin kicked his pants off the rest of the way, letting them land in a heap on the floor. Swearing softly again, he reached down and tried to grip his length, inhaling sharply when he felt the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh, fuck…” He groaned, carefully stroking himself. Kayn lifted his hips again to give himself more space as he pressed his face into the sheets to stifle his moans. With the blood pumping in his ears, he didn’t hear Sylas walking back across the room, but felt the hand on his wrist, and then it being pulled away.

“Patience. I’ll take care of you.” He smiled, lifting Kayn’s hand above his head and pinning it to the bed. “I just needed to get something to make sure I didn’t hurt you.” The mage let go and opened the jar in his hand, slowly filling the room with the smell of aloe vera. 

“What is that?” Kayn asked, laying his head sideways to try and look. 

“It’s something I use to make sure that the shackles on my wrists don’t damage my skin.” Sylas told him, scoping some of it out with his fingers and rubbing it onto his once against erect member with a shaky groan. “It also works as a lubricant. Useful for this situation.” The ceramic jar was placed on the floor, and cold, gelled fingers pressed between Kayn’s cheeks, making him jump and swear. 

“That’s cold!” The mage laughed again and leaned over the smaller man, pressing the tip of his length against his entrance. 

“Are you ready?” He asked moving his arm under Kayn’s chin to hug him. “If you want me to stop, you just need to tell me.” 

“Just fuck me!” 

“Not one to play around, are you?” Before Kayn could speak again, Sylas gripped his own member, careful with his chains, and felt around before pushing himself into the assassin’s hole. Both men moaned, at different volumes, as Sylas pressed himself further in, until each inch was inside of Kayn. “By the light, that’s good…” The mage groaned again, pressing himself closer. “It’s been so long…” 

“Then start moving, Sylas.” Kayn lifted his hips up slightly, trying to encourage him. 

“Yes, yes.” His own hips lifted, and pressed back down, smiling at the cursing. “I still want to enjoy the moment.” Sylas had expected to hurt the smaller man, the way he lifted his hips and almost slammed them down, but the only thing he could hear was appreciative moans, and saw his hands fisting the sheets. His lips pressed against Kayn’s shoulderblade and his hips found a rhythm. The sound of wet flesh slapping against the assassin’s rear filled the air, somewhat drowning out the soft cursing from him. 

“Fuck!” In the heat of the moment, Kayn lost himself in the bliss, and the feeling of his length grinding against the sheets made him finally orgasm, gritting his teeth and jerking his hips in tandem with Sylas’s movements. 

“If you keep that up…” The mage was starting to lose his rhythm, and felt himself losing himself to the bliss. With a few final, stronger thrusts, he came for the third time, crying out into the otherwise empty room, and then laying down on Kayn’s back, hugging him as his length continued to twitch inside of him. In the afterglow, either of them wanted to move. Kayn was content with having the weight on his back and enjoying the feeling of being held. Sylas was enjoying it the same way, even if he felt a little guilty over having orgasmed three times, whilst his new friend had only done it once. Chuckling softly, Sylas lifted his head and pressed kisses across Kayn’s shoulders before getting up and pulling out of him, smirking when none of his cum followed. 

“As much as I would like you to stay for the night, we should be getting back to the camp soon.” Kayn’s eyes shot open. 

_ The camp. He thinks I’m one of his people.  _

As he walked to the bathroom, Sylas stretched his arms out, smiling. “You still must tell me why you climbed into my house, though.” 

“Yeah, sure!” Kayn jumped up, wincing at the new strain in his hips, and scrambled to find his clothes and pull them on. 

“You’re not going to finish him?” Rhaast asked, only for his ‘host’ to hear. 

“I’m not gonna kill a guy after he just fucked me.” The assassin hissed back, picking the scythe up along with his cloak. Before Sylas could come back into the room, Kayn had dressed himself and jumped back out of the window. The first thing he felt was confusion, as he walked over and looked outside, the only thing he could see being the footprints in the snow. He just smiled and rested his hands on the wood. 

“I’m sure that we will meet again, Kayn.” 


End file.
